


The sushi sacrifice

by stjarna



Series: AoS Advent 2016 [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS Advent 2016, All mistakes are my own, Bus Kids - Freeform, Could Be Canon, F/M, Fluffy, Short & Sweet, Some bus kids, Someone doesn't like Sushi, You Decide, could be au, prompt: sacrifice, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8760535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Fitz and Jemma attend one of Daisy's famous holiday parties, but Jemma is acting awfully strange.Written for Day 5 of the AOS advent 2016 organized by the wonderful theclaravoyant on Tumblr.Writing prompt: sacrifice





	

They’re standing in a corner in Daisy’s crowded living room, holding hands and looking at the people, mingling, chatting, laughing.

“Is it just me or are Daisy’s holiday parties getting louder each year?” Fitz asks, leaning closer to Jemma so he won’t have to yell into her ear.

“Well, word of how spectacular her parties are comes around,” Jemma says, holding on to an empty champagne flute.

“Hey guys! When did you get here?” Daisy exclaims, appearing in front of them out of nowhere holding a tray with sushi. But she doesn’t give them a chance to reply and instead continues drowning them in a flood of words. “Oh good, someone got you some of the yummy sparkly stuff. Oh but you need a refill.” Quickly she grabs Jemma’s glass, now balancing the food tray with just one hand. “Have you tried the spicy tuna roll, Jemma? I mean, I know I’m new to this whole sushi thing but it’s crazy good! Seriously.” She holds the tray in front of Jemma, who shyly grabs one of the pieces. Meanwhile, Daisy turns to Fitz, “There’s BBQ chicken wings for the scaredy cats in the kitchen, Fitz. Help yourself. I know you wouldn’t touch sushi with a five-foot pole. I’ll be right back with more champagne!” Daisy exclaims, turning around and heading for the kitchen.

“Wow,” Fitz mumbles, still slightly overwhelmed by the exuberant energy in the room.

A piece of sushi appears in front of his eyes, and Jemma’s voice draws his attention. “Here, eat this.”

He turns his head to face her. “What?”

“Eat this! Quickly! She’ll be right back!”

“I don’t like sushi.”

“I know,” she mumbles, her eyes strangely panicked and apologetic.

“But _you_ like sushi.”

“I know,” she repeats, still holding the tuna roll in front of his nose.

“Then why are you ask—” But he can’t finish his sentence before Jemma shoves the piece into his mouth.

Surprised and shocked, not sure what else to do, he chews and swallows, slightly disgusted by the taste and texture of raw fish in his mouth.

He’s about to go into a _What the hell_ tirade, when Daisy reappears with two full glasses of champagne. Enthusiastically, she hands both of them a glass. “Sorry that took so long. Had to chat with some more folks. How did you like the tuna roll, Jemma?”

“Delicious,” Jemma lies, and Fitz is starting to wonder if he’s in some kind of weird dream.

“I knew it!” Daisy exclaims excitedly. “I’ll be sure to bring you a plate with the whole array in a little bit. I really outdid myself!” She pats both of them on their arms. “Okay, I have to make the rounds, but I’ll stop by again. Promise! Have fun. Don’t go too wild!”

Once she is out of hearing distance, Fitz considers it time to go back to the bizarre earlier moment.

“What the hell with the sushi-force-feeding, Jemma?” he asks, giving her a questioning look.

She grimaces. “I’m sorry, Fitz.”

“Why? Whywhywhy?” Fitz continues. “I don’t get it.”

Her eyes nervously search the room. She takes a deep breath, puts down her glass on a shelf next to her, and grabs him by the elbow. “Come,” she whispers, pulling him along.

Dumbfounded by Jemma’s strange behavior, Fitz leaves his champagne flute next to hers on the shelf, and follows her.

She sneaks down the corridor and peeks into several rooms before silently pulling him into the bathroom.

He walks over to the bathtub and sits down on its ledge, looking confused at his girlfriend, who locks the door behind her, but neglects to turn around to face him once she is done.

“Jemma?” he asks quietly. “What’s going on?”

She exhales sharply and turns around.

“I had a whole thing planned, Fitz, I swear.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to tell you tomorrow, at dinner,” she tries to explain, taking a few steps closer to him, her hands gesturing lively. “I only found out this morning. I mean, had it confirmed… and I had this really cute idea: I found the most adorable onesie with a little monkey on it; completely gender-neutral, and I wanted to wrap it up and give it to you tomorrow. And it would have been _perfect_ and then Daisy has to ruin it with her bloody sushi extravaganza. I mean I managed to dump the first glass of champagne into her potted plant in the corner, but I just couldn’t get around the damn sushi.”

“A one…a one… a _what_?” Fitz mutters, his brain slowly catching up with what she’s implying. “Jemma, are you—”

“Pregnant,” she finishes his question, presenting him with an answer at the same time.

His mouth drops to the floor, but somehow his breath manages to exhale the words “Are you serious?”

A smile flashes across her face, and she nods silently.

He pushes himself up from the bathtub, and takes a step forward, enough to allow him to cup her face and lean in to kiss her.

He laughs when he breaks their kiss, and her eyes beam back at him equally happily.

“We’re having a baby!” he exclaims, his hands still holding her cheeks.

“Yes,” she whispers, a shimmer of tears in her eyes.

Fitz places another kiss onto her lips.

“So you can’t eat Daisy’s sushi,” he states matter-of-factly.

“I can’t eat Daisy’s sushi,” Jemma confirms.

“And we probably don’t want to tell anyone quite yet?”

“Probably not,” Jemma replies. “I’d like to tell our parents first.”

Fitz nods. “Right…. And even though you know that you can drink a little bit of alcohol while you’re pregnant…”

“…I’d like to not drink _any_ , at _least_ during the first trimester. Just for good measure,” Jemma explains.

“Soooo,” Fitz contemplates. “You need me to eat any sushi and drink any champagne that Daisy shoves into your face tonight?”

“I’m really sorry,” Jemma sighs.

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, unable to keep from smiling widely. “You’ll be carrying our child for nine month, _and_ going through labor and birth and…” He pauses, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. “Eating raw fish and drinking excessive amounts of alcohol seem like a small sacrifice. I think I’m getting the better end of the deal.”

She chuckles, and her eyes sparkle suggestively. “Well, _maybe_ I can reward you later tonight for your sacrifice.”

He nods. “Yeah, probably by holding the bucket I’ll be throwing up into.”

She laughs. “Well, I have started to feel a little nauseas in the mornings, so for all I know, you’ll be returning the favor tomorrow morning _and_ for the next few weeks.”

Fitz smiles. “Again, a sacrifice I’m more than happy to make.”


End file.
